


Adrenaline

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Laws of Attraction (2004), You Me and Him (2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Boyfriends, Coitus Interruptus, Hair-pulling, M/M, Making Out, Rough Sex, Teasing, Tour Bus Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Thorne and John, pre and post concert.
Relationships: Thorne Jamison/John Helm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Adrenaline

Thorne carefully swept his hair up off his face, his hands slick with product. His black hair was now gelled into thick, tousled spikes, hints of glitter catching in the locks. He smiled at his reflection, his lips covered in a sheer layer of clear gloss. His blue eyes were lined in black and silver, also tinged with glitter. He wore a tight black shirt with a V-neck and the tightest leather pants he owned. His body buzzed with excitement because he could hear the crowd from his dressing room, chanting and cheering already.

A knock sounded at the door suddenly. “Thorne?” It was John.

“It’s open, baby,” Thorne called.

His boyfriend and bassist entered the room, taking Thorne’s breath away as he always did. John wore black skinny jeans and a leather jacket over a plain white T-shirt that clung to his lithe chest. His red bass guitar was strapped over his shoulder and his brown eyes were lined in blue that faded to purple at the corners. His hair and beard were carefully styled and his nails flashed blue and black. He froze and stared at Thorne, who could see him standing in the mirror’s reflection.

“You look amazing, Baby Boy,” Thorne said with a smile as he turned around to face his boyfriend.

John’s eyes widened when Thorne turned around and his tongue came out to flick along his lower lip. He set his bass aside and strode over, crowding Thorne up against his vanity. His hands settled onto Thorne’s waist and the singer wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s lean shoulders.

“You look bloody fantastic, love,” John whispered. “You always do.”

“Thanks,” Thorne replied, running a fingertip along John’s nape, making him shiver. “You know, we still have a few more minutes until the show starts.”

“Yeah,” John agreed. “What should we do to pass the time?” He squeezed Thorne’s hips and then slipped his hands lower to the rock star’s arse.

“I can think of a few things,” Thorne said, tracing the shape of John’s lips.

The bassist nipped the tip of one of Thorne’s fingers, growling deep from his chest. He pressed Thorne up against the vanity and kissed him hotly. Thorne melted against John’s slender form, letting his boyfriend lift him up to sit on the vanity’s counter edge, making a few lip gloss tubes and an eyeliner pen fall to the floor. Thorne wrapped one leg around John’s hip, pulling him closer, their kisses deep and passionate. John’s breathing was rough and heavy, his beard scratching against Thorne’s face. 

“John,” the singer moaned as his boyfriend nibbled his ear, licked along the shell. 

“Thorne,” John moaned back, kissing his lover’s neck.

He kissed his way back up to Thorne’s lips, tasting the tang of his lip gloss. Thorne slid off the vanity and pushed at John’s chest, urging him to walk backward. John obeyed and then Thorne pushed him to sit down on the leather couch against the wall, separating their lips. John looked up at Thorne in surprise, his eyes wide and dark, lips shiny and red. He was breathing heavily as Thorne crawled into his lap, kissing him hungrily, cupping the sides of John’s neck with his hands, painted nails flashing in the dim lights. They both always got so excited before a concert, at seeing each other dressed up. It drove both men crazy.

“You are so sexy,” John breathed, squeezing Thorne’s arse through his leather pants.

“John,” Thorne whined, grinding against his boyfriend’s lap, his pants even tighter than before. “Take me, baby, please. I want it.”

John laced a hand through Thorne’s hair and crashed their mouths together in a messy kiss. He pressed his other hand against the singer’s crotch, cupping him through the tight leather. Thorne moaned and pushed his hips into John’s hand, rocking into the slow stroking. The room was filled by the sounds of their moaning and kissing. Thorne felt like he was already about to come when someone else knocked on the door, sounding impatient.

“What?” Thorne snapped irritably.

“The show’s about to start,” Jason, their manager, called from the other side. “I know John is in there too, so just put on your clothes and cleans yourselves up, then get out here.”

Thorne and John both groaned loudly. John laid his head back against the couch while Thorne slumped against him, still hard, his body thrumming with desire.

“Guess we’d better get out there,” John said, rubbing Thorne’s back.

“I don’t think I can walk,” Thorne mumbled against his shoulder.

John laughed. “I guess this is why Jason tries to keep us in separate dressing rooms.”

Thorne laughed too and slowly eased himself up off John’s lap, grimacing as he adjusted himself in his pants. John smirked a little as he smoothed out his clothes and then stepped close to his boyfriend again.

‘I can’t go out there like this,” Thorne said. “I need some sort of relief, Baby Boy.”

John’s eyes glinted as he smirked devilishly. “No.” He cupped Thorne’s crotch again, squeezing slightly. “I want you to go out there like this, hard and aching for me. I want you to perform while you’re thinking about my cock sinking into you, filling your tight arse.”

Thorne moaned lowly, leaning against John as the bassist stroked him. When he pulled away, the singer whined and John chuckled.

“Go and put some more gloss on, love,” he said. “While I clean the remnants off my lips.”

Thorne obeyed and walked stiffly to the vanity and applied more lip gloss, adjusting himself again. When he turned around, John was using a towel from the bathroom to wipe his mouth, which was still red and perfect from their make out session. Thorne’s cock twitched in his pants and he bit back another moan. John smiled as he picked up his bass and put it over his shoulder again.

“Ready, love?” he asked, opening the door.

Thorne clenched a fist against his side, aroused and frustrated. If John was going to tease him and make him wait, then two could play at that game. He took a deep breath and smiled in a come-hither type way, walking past John, grabbing his arse as he did so. He heard the bassist inhale sharply and smirked as they headed to the stage, where their bandmates and Jason were already waiting. Thorne watched John tune his bass, his long fingers experly plucking the strings. Thorne couldn’t wait for those fingers to be all over him, inside him. He shivered again.

John must have sensed his staring because he suddenly turned to face Thorne. His red lips twitched into a wolf-like as he stroked his hand up and down the neck of his bass. Thorne groaned through his teeth. This was going to be a long show.

John growled like a wild animal as he pushed Thorne into his dressing room again, slamming the door shut behind them with his foot, kissing the rock star with fervor. The show had lasted for two hours, the longest two hours of either of their lives. The two kept teasing each other through the whole thing, trying to get one another to crack. Thorne stayed close to John every chance he got, grinding against him, circling him like vulture. During one of John’s solos, Thorne stood behind him, placing a hand on his arse, squeezing through the skinny jeans. That nearly broke John right there, but he was determined to win this game, to make Thorne the desperate one.

At one point, during one of their slower songs, John stroked his bass a little more sensually than he needed to, staring deeply into Thorne’s eyes all the while. He heard a catch in the singer’s voice as he sang and it made John grin like the cat who got the cream. Afterward, they rushed back to dressing room, where Thorne was now mewling and moaning, tugging at John’s jacket.

“Patience, love,” John purred, grabbing Thorne’s wrists. 

The rock star whined, his eyes hot and dark with desire. John took Thorne’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Go and wait for me in bed on the tour bus,” the bassist ordered. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Thorne nodded obediently and left the room, making a beeline to the tour bus parked outside the arena. Luckily, nobody stopped him and the rest of the band wasn’t on the bus yet, including their driver. Thorne shot into the bedroom and removed his clothes the minute he shut the door, tossing them throughout the room. The pants were the hardest to remove, the leather tight and taut over the bulge of his erection. Throne gasped in relief when he was finally able to rid himself of the garment, his cock bobbing heavily in the air as he got onto the bed, the cool sheets heaven against his hot skin. He arranged himself on his back, propped up by some pillows, waiting for John with bated breath.

He resisted the urge to touch himself and gathered the sheets in his fists, his knuckles white as he steadied his breathing. He heard footsteps approaching the door and when it opened and John stepped into the room, Thorne’s heart pumped even faster. John shut and locked the bedroom door behind him, walking slowly toward the bed, his lean hips swaying. 

“You didn’t touch yourself,” he said. “Good. I don’t want you coming without me.”

Thorne moaned. “John, please, take me, touch me. I’ve been good and I’ve been waiting. You win, Baby Boy.”

John licked his lips, noting the way Thorne’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue. The bassist kicked off his boots and removed his socks, then peeled off his jacket and his T-shirt, tossing both garments to the floor. He pounced onto the bed and crawled up Thorne’s body, kissing up his leg, thigh, stomach, chest. He lingered there and took one nipple into mouth, sucking it between his teeth. Thorne yelped and arched his back into the touch. John kissed up his boyfriend’s neck, leaving love bites wherever he felt suited, before finally reaching Thorne’s lips and kissing him firmly.

“Fuck me, John, please,” Thorne begged, his erection poking John’s stomach. “I want you inside me. I need it.”

“I suppose you have earned it, haven’t you?” John teased.

He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand and flipped the cap open, drizzling some onto his fingers. He hoisted one of Thorne’s legs over his shoulder and circled his tight hole, watching it quiver and clench around nothing. He slipped one finger inside and Thorne moaned loudly. John smirked again. He loved that while Thorne was seen as confident and devil-may-care to the fans and the media, when they were alone together he was such a sweet, needy, vulnerable thing.

John added a second slick finger, moving them as if he were playing one of his solos. Thorne convulsed and sobbed in pleasure. 

“John, for fuck’s sake, fuck me,” he pleaded. “I’ve been more than patient!”

John growled at the pure lust in Thorne’s voice and withdrew his fingers. He fumbled with his belt and undid it, then opened his jeans, sliding them halfway down his hips, freeing his erection, which was leaking and heavy with blood. Thorne licked his lips at the sight of it. John slicked himself up and hooked Thorne’s legs over his shoulders, thrusting into him slowly, the cold metal of his zipper biting into the rock star’s skin as he began to move.

“Fuck, yeah, Baby Boy, just like that,” Thorne moaned, running a hand down John’s smooth back, feeling the muscles flex and shift with the strain of thrusting into him. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop,” John hissed in Thorne’s ear. “Not until I come inside you.”

He sucked Thorne’s earlobe between his teeth and the singer gasped, nails leaving red scratches down his boyfriend’s back. The bed was squeaking and banging into the wall, the air full of the sound of skin against skin, moans of ecstasy, hot and hungry kisses. John shifted his hips in a slow, sensuous motion and hit Thorne’s prostate dead on. The rock star screamed and came right then, his body going taut, warm come splashing up between their stomachs. He tightened around John and the Scot gasped at the increased tightness. He thrust once, twice before he came deep inside of Thorne and collapsed on top of him, panting against his ear.

The air was rich with the smell of sex and sweat. Thorne stroked John’s back absently and his boyfriend sighed, nuzzling his neck before slowly pulling out. Thorne whined at the loss but John kissed him gently as he rolled into his back, pulling his jeans all the way off and letting them puddle to the floor by the bed.

“That was fantastic,” Thorne said lazily.

“Yeah, it was,” John agreed. 

He kissed his boyfriend's messy hair and left the bed, returning from their bathroom with a wet flannel, using it to clean Thorne’s stomach and hole gently. The rock star purred at the tender attention. John laid down and pulled Thorne close against his chest, stroking his hair while Thorne nuzzled him.

“I love you,” Thorne said, staring into John’s eyes.

“I love you too,” John replied, kissing him gently. 

Thorne snuggled closer and John rubbed his shoulder. They basked in comfortable silence and the bus began moving, taking them back to their hotel. 

“We going to repeat this in our room?” Thorne asked, sounding hopeful.

“Maybe,” John mused. “But let’s rest for now, love. You deserve it. I didn’t mean to be so...rough.” He traced a deep red imprint of his teeth on Thorne’s neck.

“Yeah, you should be,” Thorne said. “I love seeing you like that.”

“Good to know,” John chuckled. “Maybe I should tease you more often.”

Thorne laughed and kissed John’s chest, then closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he dozed off. John stroked his boyfriend’s hair and kissed his forehead. He knew they should get cleaned up but they could shower at the hotel. John pulled the blankets over them and held Thorne close, closing his eyes as well.


End file.
